


Ramblin' Man

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied Smut, Language, M/M, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:19:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17058827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean wanted to run, to keep you safe.  But after a…moment lacking grace…he realizes you may not need as much protection as he thought.





	Ramblin' Man

It was time.  Dean knew that.  It was what he did.  It was time.

 

His bags were already packed, the note already written.  He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at you.  He never would have thought he would fall in love with you.  You were just some guy he ran into, literally, during a hunt.  Werewolf went right past you.  In your shock, you froze, and then BAM!  Hello, Dean Winchester. 

 

Dean chuckled as he remembered how you stuttered and stumbled over your words as the two of you tried to untangle from each other.  You were in such a state of shock that when Dean had taken off after the monster…you just kinda followed him.  He bought you dinner, and after a night of some of the best sex he had ever had…he stayed. 

 

When the hunt was all said and done, you had offered him a place to stay.  You were kind like that.  Dean looked down to you, your messy bedhead, the way your leg stuck out from under the sheets, lack of shirt that showed off those toned muscles.  He really didn’t want to do this…

 

But he had to.  It was time.  The longer he stayed, the deeper he would fall, the more danger you would be in. So he pulled a chick flick move, he leaned over and gave you a soft kiss, whispered how much he loved you, and then got up, walking from your room and down the stairs.

 

Dean would deny that he had tears welling up in his eyes.  There were few people in this life he never wanted to be without.  His dad, who was long gone, his mom, Sam, Cas, Bobby…but all of those people were gone now, either to heaven or found a way out of this hell of a life.  Cas was back in heaven, given a high ranking role.  Sam found a cute little thing to settle down with…everyone else…

 

He let out a deep sigh as he lugged his back up on his shoulder, he had to leave.  It was the only way to keep you safe.  So, he turned, determined to walk out of your life.  You were successful.  Owned your own bookstore, your own home.  You didn’t need a hunter tying you…

 

“Shit!”  He cursed when he turned.  His bag snagged a picture frame, sending it crashing to the floor.  Dean froze, listening to see if you woke, but there was no noise. 

 

He let out a deep sigh as he bent down to see what he broke.  It was a picture of the two of you.  You had your arms wrapped around Dean, head resting on his shoulder while he threw his head back in a laugh.  It was the carnival.  You took Dean, saying he needed to live a little between those crazy hunts. 

 

Dean realized that night that he loved you.  He was so in love with you.  The tears stung his eyes again as he just left the picture on the ground and turned to get up.  But he never made it to his feet.

 

Dean was bowled over, his bag went flying as his back was slammed down into the glass.  He felt a hand wrap tightly around his throat, felt the cold metal of a gun against his forehead.  His eyes went wide as he saw the face of the enraged man before him.  The tall man had a scowl on his face, one of anger, not fear.  One that actually made Dean freeze. 

 

“Where’s…Dean?”  Dean gulped when he realized that this mad assailant that had him freaked out…was you.  You released him quickly, sitting up on your knees before slapping your hand against the light switch. 

 

Dean’s mouth fell open as he took in the sight.  You were straddling his hips, wearing nothing but boxers.  You had a gun in your hand, resting against your thigh, your other hand ran through your wild hair, taming it as he gave you a questioning look.  “God Dean, what the hell are you doing?”  You questioned him.

 

Dean’s mouth was still open, his eyes wide.  Two phrases resonated in his mind as he looked at you.  The first: _When did he become so badass?_   And the second: _Holy Hell is this hot_.  “Um…I was…uh…” 

 

You smirked as you rose to your feet, offering a hand to pull him up.  It took you a second to brush the glass off of him.  You walked him around to the couch and chuckled before you froze and saw the little envelope with your name on it. 

 

Dean watched with a broken heart as you reached out and picked it up.  He saw you give him a questioning look, probably having recognized the handwriting.  “Six months and you’re still leaving me little notes, huh?”  You joked.

 

Dean looked down at his hands for a moment.  He couldn’t watch you read the letter.  So he sat in silence as your eyes drifted across the paper, as you read those parting words of apologies and love.  It seemed time went on forever.  Dean worked up the nerve to steal a look, but then was in shock when he realized…you weren’t even there anymore.

 

“Ba-.”

 

SLAM! Dean sighed as he heard your bedroom door slam shut.  He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands.  He could picture you sitting on the edge of the bed, doing the same thing, running your fingers through your hair, one of the most adorable nervous habits you had.

 

This was the right thing to do…right?  To leave, to keep you safe? 

 

Dean got up and made his way to the door, stealing one last look around the house he called home, and then he turned and reached for the door knob. 

 

“You don’t get to decide.”  You said as you glared at him from the stairs.  Dean turned and looked at you, you could see the redness starting to form in his eyes, this was killing him.  “You don’t get to decide how I live my life.  I love you, Dean Winchester.  I love who you are and I love what you are.  I get it, you’re a hunter.  It’s dangerous, you have enemies, but…I just dumped your ass on the floor and could have shot you, if that doesn’t show you I can take care of myself, I don’t know what will.” 

 

Dean stood there in silence, taking in your words.  “So…if you need to leave, pull some righteous crap and go…fine.  But if you love me…as much as I hope you do…then I’ll be upstairs.  But so help me, if you stay and I wake up one day to another note like this fucking one.”  You threw his goodbye note down on the floor at his feet.  “I will hunt you down and shoot your ass.”  You turned and walked up the stairs, silent, and then turned into your room, shutting the door behind you. 

 

Dean had never felt so lost in his life.  Everything in his soul was telling him to haul ass up those damn stairs, show that sexy man how much he loved him…but the other…it said it was too dangerous.  It was too risky.

 

Dean looked down at the note he had written, over to the broken glass, your gun laying on the coffee table.  And he made his decision. 


End file.
